


Supermassive Blackhole

by clueless_psycho



Category: Teenwolf - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueless_psycho/pseuds/clueless_psycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an Amber Alert was raised, Sheriff Stilinski made sure that every property get thoroughly searched.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supermassive Blackhole

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first fic in Ao3 and my first posted Teenwolf fic. I'm still working my way through Teenwolf, so I guess, some of the facts here are wrong and I apologize beforehand. Otherwise, I do hope you enjoy.

Supermassive Blackhole

A Teenwolf fanfiction

Unbetaed, some swearing words

 

When the amber alert for missing Keira Stanton, age five, originally from Orange County, was raised, fifteen minutes later, Sheriff Stilinski with an entourage of deputies and townsfolk, which included Chris Argent, showed up at the edge of Hale’s property.

“I have a search warrant for this area,” Stilinski said, waving a piece of paper in front of Peter Hale’s nose.

“What?” Peter snatched that paper to read it, but naturally, it was difficult to read because it was almost nine in the evening and there was no lamp in this area of the property and this wasn’t full moon and damnit, he was supposed to have a better night vision. 

Surprisingly, Chris Argent offered help in the form of flashlight, which he pointed towards the paper. “Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you. Anyway, Sheriff, there is nothing in this paper that specifically says the Hale’s property. I refuse to have this property searched.’

“Everybody’s property in this town is being searched. We have divided volunteers into groups, and they do cross-searched upon houses and buildings.”

“Who mans the sheriff office then?”

“Shut up, Hale,” snapped Chris. “Why don’t you just let us in? We will be done in ten minutes and you can go back to your usual Fox Crime schedule.”

“Noooo,” Peter whined. “Don’t you think that if some kid abducter and his abductee are in this property, I would’ve known? I can pick up their scents from twenty miles away.”

“Peter, you’re not that good anymore, just in case you've forgotten,” Chris mentioned. “Now, the longer we have this discussion, the longer we can find out that your property is clean.”

“I’m not going to have all of you trampling all over my property,” Peter held his ground.

“Then I’ll put you into custody,” Sheriff Stilinski stepped in, then he jerked his head toward his deputies. “Let’s book him it.”

“Touch me and…”

“Wait, wait…,” Chris jumped to place himself between Peter and Stilinski. “No need for hardcore police takedown here. You need your deputies, Stilinski, other than to take care of this low-life half-breed creature. Why don’t I do the search myself and you all can go searching other places?”

“Yeah, like the school building. Make sure that your teenage kids aren’t in the groups of their own, they should have at least two adults in their groups, or they’ll end up making out at the darkest corners of the school complex. But you know what, Stilinski, you shouldn’t worry about Stiles, because Derek isn’t here,” Peter laughed.

“Shut up,” Chris curled his nose, probably thinking about Allison secretly met with Scott somewhere.

“Okay,” Stilinski nodded. “If you found the abducter, shoot him, or her, then you can shoot Peter.”

“What? I haven’t said that I agree to his proposal,” Peter complained.

“It’s not a proposal,” snapped Chris. “I’m not asking you to marry me. And I don’t hunt you anymore since you’re not an alpha anymore. You can be worried if Derek is here.”

“Come on, Hale, be good for once,” Stilinski gave him a mocking grin. “for the sake of a little girl. I’ll send someone to bring you milk and cookies later, I think the ladies had set up a cookie counter at the church to keep us energized.”

“Send some steak and bourbon instead!” Peter yelled at Sheriff Stilinski who had turned around and walked towards his patrol car with the rest of the entourage.

"Here," Chris tossed him a spare flashlight and should Peter have lost his super-reflex ability and didn’t catch it without even thinking, the flashlight would’ve hit him right between his eyebrows

"I’m not in the mood for a long walk under the starless night sky with my male nemesis," Peter mocked.

”Right. Then don’t blame me if I step on your precious graves by mistake because nobody guided me,” said Chris.

”You do that, I’ll rip your throat open,” Peter snarled.

”I’m sure I can shoot you first. Now walk. We haven’t got all night.”

”Who the hell are you giving me orders … Bastard!” Peter spat because Chris didn’t even listen to him anymore, Chris had started to walk into the depth of the property. He had no choice, but following Chris as he didn’t want Chris to step on his precious graves. "Watch your step, Argent!"

”Ha. Ha. You should’ve put headstones! I would love to see the headstones. I would love to learn the history and I would love to know how many of your kin had died and buried here. That’ll add up nicely to the statistics.”

"You’re such a gun trigger, arrow snapper happy person that you and your family should be put on top of the blacklist of most wanted mass murderer of the millenium."

”Jabber on, Hale, and walk faster. What the Hell, I thought you’re half wolf.”

”And you’re a whole asshole.”

Peter eventually caught up with Chris. They moved their flashlights in different directions, looking for clue. Peter found it annoying at having to rely on a flashlight to see things in the darkness, but then there was no star in the sky to help them see a bit more clearly. Or he was actually getting old. Scary. Scarier than having your nephew kill you, actually.

”What’s the name of the girl again?” Asked Peter.

”Keira Stanton.”

”And her age?”

”Five.”

”Where did she come from?”

”I thought you read the search warrant. She’s from Orange County.”

”That’s a bit far, isn’t that?”

”Yes, but we’re not taking any chances.”

”What happened?”

”Same old thing. She went for a bike ride alone in the neighbourhood, but she didn’t come back when it gets dark.”

”Have they searched the neighborhood?”

”They turned the whole town upside down to be exact, then amber alert was raised for the entire California.”

”Do you have a picture?”

Chris stopped to yank his cell phone out after putting his flashlight between his teeth. He tapped on his keypad, then shoved his I-Phone under Peter’s nose so Peter could see. "Do you want me to send it to you? MMS? Whatsapp? Line? BBM for Android?”

"I didn’t know you’re so desperate to keep in touch with me." Peter squinter eher eyes. "Pretty."

”Yeah,” Chris pocketed her cell phone again.

They walked again in silence for a while. Peter knew that probably Chris only heard the sound of the wind, their steps on the rough ground and their breathings, but he could actually hear the voices of the dead Hales.

”You know what was the first thing I taught Allison when she made it to two?” Chris broke the silence.

”Bite harder?”

”No. Scream louder. I told her that if in the public area, she saw someone she didn’t know approaching, just scream as loud as she could.”

”You’re definitely not the most charming daddy of the year.”

”No. And my wife was completely embarrassed.”

”I thought your wife is one hundred percent behind you?”

”Yes, but there are certain ethics, I guess.”

Silence again.

”Things like this, always remind me when Allison was still a small girl, and we’re so fortunate that she reached her teen age unscathed.”

”Yes, before she met Scott McCall.”

”Before you bit Scott McCall.”

”There is no relevance whatsoever between me biting Scott McCall to Allison falling for Scott McCall.”

”You made Scott a super boy that grabbed all attention at the lacrosse field.”

”Hey, who am I? I’m not God! I don’t make them fall in love.”

”You’re an accessory.”

”What the Hell, you make falling in love sounds like a crime! They’re teenagers, for God’s sake. Nothing can stop them and their overflowing hormones.”

Chris laughed. "That sounds like a song in the eighties."

”Yes right but I didn’t do disco.”

”Neither did I. Too busy practising to be a hunter.”

”Then how did you romance your girlfriend then?”

Chris laughed again. "I didn’t. I came to her house riding a white horse, and I played guitar and sang under her window, and her parents were so touch, they let me take their daughter’s hands in marriage.”

”Cute,” Peter made a mocking face. "But you know, I’m a bit baffled when I see Allison. She’s so goddamned pretty. You’re ugly. Your wife is… Okay. But Allison looks like she was dropped from Heaven by an angel straight to your wife’s lap.”

”Exactly what I thought when I saw her the first time. But she was delivered at home, a midwife assisted my wife and I was there the whole time, so there’s no mistake.”

”If Facebook was invented by the time of Allison’s birth, you’ll quickly fall under the category of ‘Shoot me, I can’t stop posting pictures of my baby daughter because oh my God she’s like the most beautiful baby God ever created’.”

Chris laughed again. "Yeah, definitely. But you should see her when she was little. Unbelievable. Almost break my heart that she’s going to be the leader.”

”Hey, why not? There were lots of female leaders who are exceptionally beautiful. Cleopatra. The queens of England. Fathima.”

Chris stopped and turned to look at Peter. "What?"

”Hey, I’ve been to school. I know stuff,” Peter shrugged.

Chris shook his head and turned around again, resuming walking.

"What about Derek? How was he when he was little?”

Peter laughed. "Oh, he was like the grumpiest boy in the whole hell world."

”Figured.”

”You know, there’s this cat, he has this really grumpy face, and he’s named the grumpiest cat in the world and he has a fanpage with Facebook and it has more likes than… I don’t know … Obama?”

Chris let put another laughter. "I didn’t know you’re very knowledgeable with what happens around Facebook."

”Well, that’s what you get from letting Cora live with you. I have to play the net nanny because the actual net nanny software is a trash.”

”Does Derek have Facebook profile too?”

”Ooooh, Derek won’t even poke a laptop with a six foot pole. He always has the feeling that the laptop will punch him back on the face if he does so much as pressing the power button.”

Chris laughed out loud, at the same time his cell phone went off.

”Argent! Hale!” Sheriff Stilinski shouted from the other side of the line. "Do you have a good time there? Nobody kills anybody yet?”

”No, we’re peachy here, reminiscing good old times when there were only sawed-off shotguns between werewolves and humans. Any news about the girl yet?”

”No, but the FBI had joined force. I do hope none of the pressed suit agents in polished shoes is sent to Beacon Hills because Agent McCall is the only FBI person I can handle without wanting to snap their necks right away. Call it a gesture of respect to Melissa McCall.”

"Okay, we haven’t seen any sign of intruders around here either."

”Good, keep going. Don’t stop until we find the girl, dead or alive, preferably alive and in one perfect piece. I’ll send Allison and Stiles there to bring you milk and cookies, can one of you meet them at the gate? I don’t want them to get inside, look for you, and start wandering around like zombies.”

”Me neither and we don’t need the milk and cookies. We’re fine here. Just lock them up in your cells, Sheriff, but don’t put Allison and Scott in the same cell. I don’t want them to multiply in one night like guinea pigs.”

”Right. I should trust your survival skill.”

Stilinski cut off the line and Chris grinned. "Survival skill," he hummed, then pulled a flask out of his jacket pocket. "Or this." He unscrewed the lid, brought it to his mouth and took a big swig. "Best bourbon the the world."

Closing the lid, he tossed it to Peter. "I don’t do cookies either," Peter said before pouring the content of the flask into his throat.

"What do you do?"

”Barbecued ribs. Bacon cheeseburger. Rare steak. Live deer.”

”Human flesh?”

”Are you kidding me? Vegan creatures taste better.”

”Then I’ll remember not to convert to a vegan.”

”Humans are complicated, even a vegan human,” Peter mumbled.

”Is that from experience of eating vegan human flesh?”

”No, that’s from walking for more than one hour in loafers. I ruined this loafers.”

”Then feel free to turn into a wolf. You won’t need loafers.”

”Do you think we should still comb my property? I mean, there’s a statistic on the death rate of kidnapped children.”

”Yeah, but imagine if it happens to our daughter,” Chris shuddered, not because of the cold, but because of the thought of Allison kidnapped and murdered and he couldn’t help. "This is what Amber Alert is supposed to be, so no other little girl will suffer like Amber."

Peter shook his head. "I hate to see your soft side," he said, then he growled aloud, shaking the trees.

It was one in the morning when Sherif Stilinski called, maybe for the twentieth time, finally, this time with the good news, “They found the girl. The fucking FBI. In Santa fucking Monica. Safe, in one piece, unscathed although crying like a wounded animal. You ladies can go home now, go sleep. Meanwhile, I have to stay in the office to collect the group reports and make report out of the group reports… you… you lucky bastards.”

Chris laughed under his breath. “I’m the lucky bastard,” he said.

Meanwhile, Peter had curled on the ground, sleeping soundly, snoring, so Chris leaned back and used him as a pillow.

 

* * *


End file.
